Lessons Learned
by Stormkpr
Summary: On Alpha Centauri, the young doctor Hugh Culber has just met Ensign Paul Stamets and he suspects this is going to be serious.
1. Chapter 1

**Lessons Learned**

"Dr. Culber, you certainly seem to have an extra – um, what's the expression? Pep in your step, perhaps."

The observation was made by Nurse Deming who worked at the same medical station as Dr. Hugh Culber, on Alpha Centauri. Both were recently out of the academy, carried the rank of Ensign, and enjoyed each other's company.

Hugh's eyes widened. "Is it that obvious?" he asked quietly as he stepped closer to the nurse. Hugh took a few quick looks around to ascertain that med lab was its usual busy place and that no one seemed interested in their conversation.

Deming nodded and smiled. "Why don't you take your morning break the same time as me? And we'll talk about it over coffee."

Two hours later, Culber and Deming sat in the spacious and comfortable break room. Deming enjoyed his slightly sweet and powdery pastry, and pointed to Hugh's. "You're hardly touching yours. And I can practically see a gleam in your eyes, and you've been moving all morning with – I guess with extra energy. Not that you weren't energetic before."

Hugh leaned forward in his seat. "I met someone yesterday. Someone who I think is going to be really, really important to me."

Deming steadied his hands and took another sip of his piping hot coffee. Hugh looked like he wanted to jump out of his seat. "Well, tell me everything," Deming said enthusiastically after swallowing the bitter drink.

"His name is Paul. He's an Ensign. In the Science division. I – we – we both happened to be at Café Trieste last night. It started out kind of – well, rocky, to put it mildly. But then we sat and talked for four hours. Literally four hours. Then I went back to my quarters and I don't think I slept a wink at all."

Hugh paused, forcing himself to slow down and do what he normally did, silently and mentally take stock of the other person. "Am I rambling too much? I hope this isn't boring you."

"Boring?" Deming practically squawked the word out. "No, Hugh, I want to know everything. Seriously."

Hugh smiled and took a breath. "It's nice to have someone to talk about this in person with. So many of my friends are stationed elsewhere. So, um, where do I start? He's – he's really funny and witty. Prickly, quite a bit prickly – which I honestly really liked. He doesn't seem to care about trying to make nice with people all the time. When we first met, I was humming my favorite song from the new Kasselian opera, and he told me to stop it. Can you believe it? So I moved closer to him and kept humming. I don't even know why I did it, maybe I wanted to see who this guy was, who would tell a stranger to be quiet. Maybe I knew I was being annoying and I felt like I deserved a dressing-down. So we sat together and just talked. I asked him what does he like if he's not into opera. He's into mushrooms."

"Mushrooms?" Deming questioned with a raised eyebrow.

"Mushrooms. He actually made them sound very interesting. Everything he said was fascinating. Really! But he also…he also listens. Like everything I said to him, he listened. He wanted to know all about me, where I'm from, what my family is like, what I like to do, everything." Hugh made himself pause, knowing his heart was racing just thinking about it.

"What else is Paul like?" Deming asked. "Other than smart and prickly. And I assume he's fairly brash if he told a stranger to be quiet. What does he look like?"

Hugh again smiled, not really noticing that the muscles around the corners of his mouth were the slightest bit sore. "He's beautiful. He's very pale, he has really blond hair and his eyebrows are so light sometimes it's like I can't see them. Blue-grey eyes. Just a bit taller than I, and slim. He's just a couple years older than I, but I don't remember ever meeting him at the academy. Big place, I guess – plus my last few years I don't think I ever even spoke to someone who wasn't in Medical."

Hugh noticed he was breathless again.

Deming took in Hugh's description of Paul. He noted that Paul apparently didn't look anything like how Deming looked.

"So, what happened after the four hours you spent at the café?" Deming asked, looking down at his pastry. "If you don't mind me asking."

"I don't mind," Hugh said. "My quarters were closer and we walked there together. It was – there was –" Hugh stopped. "Maybe the only awkward moment was then and there because I wasn't sure if I should invite him in, and he seemed….nervous, I guess, for a moment. Like he wasn't sure what should come next either."

Hugh had wondered what to do last night. He certainly was no blushing virgin and knew Paul couldn't be either. Hugh had not wanted a one-night hook up, and he had wanted to ensure Paul knew it. Whatever this was going to be, it was not going to be only sexual. Without discussing it, the easiest way to communicate that had simply been to not have sex.

Hugh picked up his recap. "Paul finally just asked if we could meet at Café Trieste again, and I said yes. We exchanged contacts details. And then, then he kissed me. He initiated it. We said goodnight, and I went into my room. And I literally haven't been able to sleep since then."

"Or eat," Deming pointed out, gesturing to Hugh's uneaten snack.

"I forced down some oatmeal and grapefruit before I left this morning," Hugh said. "Less than half of what I usually eat but I just – oh, Deming, it's just taking every last bit of my willpower for me to focus on work today. I'm glad we can't check our personal communicators until our shifts are over. I'm so excited."

Just then, a ping sounded to signify that break time was over. Deming made Hugh promise to give an update.

The two men went about the rest of their days. As soon as Hugh's shift was over and he could pick up his personal communicator, he reached for it. Paul had left a message: "Café Trieste tonight? Say 1900 hours if that works for you. No humming please."

Hugh's heart thudded and a small laugh burst out as he typed his reply. "You got it. Bring that recipe from your grandmother you were telling me about, if you can find it." And then, a moment later, he added, "I'm looking forward to another kiss afterwards too."

Paul's reply was swift. "You'll get that, and pretty much anything else you want."

Deming meanwhile went back to his quarters and nearly cried. He had always wanted Hugh for himself. He should have made his interest known instead of hoping Hugh would notice him someday. Lessons learned.

* * *

 **THE END** – except there might be an addendum which will be geared towards mature readers, if readers would like to see it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Warning** : Porn with a bit of plot? Definitely lots of sex in here so please don't read unless you're okay with that.

* * *

 **Chapter Two**

"You're six minutes late," Dr. Naumov said, frowning.

"I apologize, Dr. Naumov," Hugh breathed as he rushed into the medical lab, reaching for a screen to see which matters needed attending to first.

Nurse Marcus Deming walked by and made a few quick calculations. Hugh was never late. He had a faint bit of darkness under his eyes, and he looked even more keyed up than yesterday. Even with the way he reached for the device and ascertained which patient to head towards first, Hugh Culber looked like he was about to dance. Several minutes later, Deming found a reason to walk by Hugh, squeeze his arm, and whisper, "I need a full report."

"You'll get a report," Hugh promised. He silently added, 'Though it definitely won't be a _full_ one.'

As he went about his day, Hugh tried to not continually replay the second date.

* * *

 _ **Yesterday evening at Café Trieste:**_

"I really liked our kiss last night. I've been enjoying every minute of this too, but I have to admit that I'm dying for another kiss," Paul declared, gently stroking Hugh's hand.

The conversation had flowed freely at Café Trieste, as had a glass or two of wine for Paul and Hugh. At one point, the conversation had somehow turned to a wrist injury Hugh had sustained years ago, and Paul had gently grasped his hand from across the table. They had remained holding hands on the table as they spoke. This time for an hour or two, not the four hours of yesterday.

"Me too," Hugh managed. His voice had almost sounded hoarse, or perhaps a bit raw.

"So, I have to ask," Paul began, looking down at the table and then back at Hugh, "was there a reason that…" he stopped, letting his voice trail off.

"What is it?" Hugh asked, inclining his head.

Paul finally broke off their handholding to make a gesture, spreading his hands. "I never know how to talk about this stuff," he admitted, breaking into a chagrined smile. "I was just wondering why all we did was kiss yesterday. Not that I at all expected more or felt like we absolutely had to do more than kiss," he rushed to add. "I was just sincerely wondering."

Hugh leaned slightly back in his seat and smiled. "I appreciate your honesty, and I appreciate that you asked; I really do." He paused and then replied. "My only thought last night was that I didn't want a one-time hook up. I – I dare hope for something more…substantive, I guess." As he had done so often during the past 24 hours, he felt his heart beat rapidly. It was difficult for Hugh to make himself so vulnerable and to take a risk, but it was even more exhilarating to think he might have correctly guessed that Paul was on the same page.

Hugh's hunch was accurate.

"Me too! I totally agree about not just wanting a one-time thing. No friends with benefits crap either," Paul answered. From the way Paul exhaled and again smiled, Hugh guessed that the other man was relieved. "And….and there's a lot to be said for just waiting a bit, for anticipation. So I'm glad we didn't do more than kiss last night."

Hugh was blushing. "Is it possible to both agree with that statement, and to say that I really want to go back to my place and rip your clothes off?"

"Yes!" Paul said, practically jumping out of his chair. "Can we transport there now?" He reached for Hugh's hand again.

Hugh gladly took the hand offered to him. "I think we only get to use them in the event of an emergency, but if we walk fast we can be there in about eight minutes. Maybe seven if we really hurry!"

The men continued to hold hands as they walked to the building where most of the base's younger medical personnel lived. They talked about the brilliant view and how beautiful the evening was. Their words were coming out rapidly, and a few passersby made note of the giddy young couple.

Since he was a doctor, Hugh had his own room although it was tiny due to his rank as Ensign. As they walked through the door, Hugh took a second to silently question what exactly he should say or do. His heart was dancing at Paul's declaration that he, too, was not looking for just a fling. And his heart was dancing at how easily their conversation had again flowed at the cafe, just like the evening before.

As the door swished shut, Paul reached for him. He pulled Hugh into a kiss.

The kiss was luscious. Paul's mouth was luscious. One of his hands gently roamed the back of Hugh's neck as their tongues lapped against each other's. Hugh grasped Paul's waist. He had kissed plenty of men before but Paul's kisses were making both his heart and his loins explode.

"Kiss my neck," Hugh whispered. "I like that."

"Oh, with pleasure!" Paul answered. He gently kissed the delicate skin there for several moments before returning to Hugh's lips.

"Now, what had we said about ripping each other's clothes off?" Paul asked breathlessly, pulling away from the kiss for a bit.

Hugh chuckled gently. "When we walked through the door, I had been wondering if I should offer you a drink or if we should sit on the sofa and talk first," he said sweetly. His tone then shifted to a more hungry and assertive one. "But we'll have plenty of time to drink and talk later. Now let's get you out of these clothes."

Hugh knew, with a fair degree of certainty, that they truly would have many, many chances in the future to slowly undress each other, to savor the revealing of flesh. He suspected that tonight though, things would proceed rapidly, and that there was no harm in that. They had agreed to give in to the needs of their bodies for now. They would do as their desires commanded.

Only briefly did Hugh slow things down. As the two men entered the alcove where Hugh's bed lay, he took a second to tell the computer to light the candle. Paul watched him, giving a playful smirk. "I like candles," Hugh shrugged. "And they create some nice, warm light."

"A man who appreciates beauty," Paul said wryly.

"Of course I do. Just look at you."

"You don't need to win me over," Paul laughed. "I'm naked and laying on your bed. Now get over here damnit!" he said, with a playful thump on the bed where Hugh would soon lay.

Pure paradise, Hugh thought. This is bliss, this is heaven, he said to himself. They lay together on the bed, naked skin against naked skin, their mouths hungrily kissing each other's. Paul's body felt so good against his. As they kissed, their hands roamed each other's bodies. Hugh wanted to touch and lick every inch of Paul, but again there was no denying it – right now they were going to urgently bring each other release. There would be ample time to do everything else later.

With that in mind, Hugh traveled down Paul's body and reached for his raging hardness. He did as he was aching to do. Paul moaned and groaned loudly, apparently loving the work of Hugh's lips and tongue.

Later on, after Paul had reciprocated, the two men wordlessly, soundlessly fell asleep. Paul had admitted back at the café that he hadn't slept much the night before either. Now that they were satiated, their bodies' next pressing need – for sleep – took over.

* * *

Paul Stamets woke up several hours later. For one split second, he didn't know where he was but his agile brain stepped in quickly to remind him. He was sleeping in the bed of the man whom he'd spent the last 24 hours or more thinking of constantly.

It was dark outside, but the room was warmly lit by Hugh's candle. The candle also gave off a subtle scent, something that suggested apples and cinnamon. The view outside the window was exhilarating; Alpha Centauri was always abuzz with lights, ships, and Starfleet Officers rushing from one important thing to the next.

Paul looked at Hugh and watched him breathe in and out. The rational side of his brain, the one he usually allowed to carry the day, had all sorts of questions for Paul. ["Can you slow down your heart and just pause for a minute here?" "Remember the career track you're on? Is a relationship going to help with that at all?"] But Paul's rational side had counter-arguments too. ["Plenty of couples in Starfleet make it work." And "You just met the guy, you don't need to analyze this like a piece of data." And "You know, very few people want to go through life alone."] No, he was not going to worry. He resolved to open his heart and see what this might lead to. Every neuron inside his brain told him that the doctor was a keeper, and that whatever was to be between them would be serious.

Paul padded to the restroom. Afterwards, he quietly puttered about Hugh's room thinking of things to do that wouldn't wake Hugh. He rummaged around in his discarded clothing on the floor to check his device (six hours till his shift started, no problem). He debated ordering a cup of coffee from the replicator (he didn't want to risk waking Hugh up with the noise though), briefly considered taking stock of the rest of the room (decided against it – he would've been annoyed if a date, even a serious one, had snooped around his place), and then just decided to return to the warm bed and Hugh.

As he settled in next to Hugh, the doctor stirred. Seeing that the other man was waking up, Paul caressed him gently.

"Mmmmm," Hugh sighed. "I could just stay here all day. Or night. Whatever time it is." Although as he woke up more fully, he had to add, "But I – uh – need the bathroom first."

Paul smiled, Hugh got up to tend to business, and returned as soon as he could.

"Do you need to get to work anytime soon?" Paul asked.

"I got some time. You?"

"Same."

"Good." And then Paul was caressing him again. "Real good," Hugh whispered, giving himself over to Paul's touches.

At last the lovers had time for a more leisurely exploration of each other's bodies. Since Paul had reached for him first, Hugh let Paul take more of the lead. "Do you spend all your free time in the gym?" Paul asked, as his fingers ran along Hugh's shoulder and arms. He then gently nibbled on the flesh there, as he'd learned Hugh enjoyed that.

"A lot of it," Hugh admitted.

"One can't spend all of one's free time at the boring opera," Paul muttered.

Hugh playfully swatted him. Paul soon was kissing and appreciating Hugh's abdomen as well, remarking on its tightness.

"You know you're not that bad looking yourself," Hugh remarked, running his fingers through Paul's hair. He loved the soft feel of it. He loved what Paul's hands and tongue were doing, covering every inch of his body and not just the obvious spots.

After several moments of languid exploration, Paul quietly asked, "Do you want to fuck?" Paul's skin had a lovely, pink sheen to it from arousal and passion.

"Yes," Hugh answered. He was blushing too, perhaps at the intensity of Paul's gaze and at the intensity of his own desire. He looked at his nightstand. "There's lube in there."

Paul reached for the bottle and held it in his hands. "I like it either way. Fucking or getting fucked. What about you?"

Hugh again smiled, incredulous that the stars had aligned so well. "Me too. I like both." He paused to kiss Paul's mouth again. "I can't wait for one of us to be inside the other, for us to be connected that way."

"I know. Me too." His hand that wasn't holding the bottle continued to roam around Hugh's body, softly pinching a nipple. Hugh moaned.

They did have a decision to make though. Paul liked to make decisions, and he loved that Hugh – though strong in his own way and definitely not a doormat – seemed the agreeable type.

"Well," Paul began, "how about I decide who fucks who tonight, and you decide the position."

"Oh, I like that. I like the way you think!" Hugh answered. "What's it going to be?"

"How about you top me this time?"

"I'm not going to argue with that," Hugh said, He reached for the bottle of lube and Paul turned around eagerly. As Hugh slowly rubbed the lube into Paul, he whispered in Paul's ear. "So I get to decide the position this time then? I'd like to lay on my back with you lowering yourself down on top of me. That way we can look at each other."

"Nice," Paul breathed. Hugh began to lick Paul's ear. "Very nice."

After not long, Hugh was indeed laying on his back looking up at Paul. His cock was inside Paul, a thought and a reality which was almost dizzying.

Paul, sitting on top of his lover, slowly moved up and down. He loved the feeling of fullness, the feeling of bringing pleasure to this gorgeous, sweet man. His own dick was hard as rock itself, but Paul wanted to focus on his movements around Hugh's dick before pumping his own. He leaned forward several times to kiss Hugh's mouth, his forehead, his eyes.

"Are –" Hugh panted, "are you thinking about how you're going to fuck me next time?"

"Not yet," moaned Paul in reply. "Enjoying this too much. Um, damn Hugh you're so big, I'm just glad you fit in here." Paul moved faster and faster.

"Tomorrow my tight hole will take your cum," Hugh promised, looking up at Paul, his every nerve ending nearing its peak. "Oh god but it feels so good to be inside you right now."

Hugh reached his climax, and afterwards Paul rapidly stroked himself until he spilled all over Hugh's chest.

The two men remained together as long as possible until they had to depart for their jobs.

* * *

Needless to say, Nurse Deming was not going to get this level of detail.

Hugh was unable to take his morning break at the same time as Deming's, due to the fact that Hugh tended to put the needs of his patients first and foremost - and their needs didn't always line up with ideal break times.

An elderly woman who had been under Hugh's care several times before smiled, gripped his arm, and observed, "There's something different about you."

"There is indeed. But, you know, we're here to examine you, not me," Hugh reminded her with a tilt of his head.

"You're in love! I can tell!" she insisted, clapping her hands together. "What is the lucky woman's name?

At last, Hugh was able to take a midday break for a meal. Deming sat down next to him.

"Tell me everything!" were the first words out of Demings' mouth.

"Marcus," Hugh said, with a slight shake of his head. "I feel terrible monopolizing our conversations like this. Why don't you tell me what's going on with you?"

"You are pretty much the only person on Alpha Centauri – or anywhere else - who worries about monopolizing the conversation. You're just so incredibly considerate. But – to answer your question – the answer is nothing, that's what," he answered, launching his hands into the air dramatically. "Nothing at all. I work, I go to the gym, I read a book, I call my mother. That's what's going on with me. Now can I please hear about the second date?"

"Um, well," Hugh spread his fingers and shrugged, "what can I say? He spent the night. It was like a dream."

"I knew it! You're literally radiating energy. There should be a couple of birds chirping near you."

Hugh rolled his eyes happily. Deming was glad to see him take a bite of his burrito.

"Tell me more," Deming requested. "Like, what else have you learned about him?"

"What did I learn? I guess, um I guess confirmation of what I saw when I first met him. He really is brilliant. The stuff he's working on could be revolutionary. He's very considerate, of me. You know, the last date I went on before him, the guy was brilliant like Paul but all he did was talk about how smart and wonderful he was and I could barely get a word in at all. Paul's not like that. He takes an active interest in me."

"Well," Deming began, tilting his head to one side, "you gotta keep in mind that this was only your second date. So he probably wants to still make a good first impression. I don't know, back at the academy, I dated a scientist. After a couple dates, I realized that he just wanted someone to feed his ego. He just could not get over his fascinating experiments. Which honestly got pretty boring the tenth time I had to hear of them."

Hugh briefly furrowed his brow. He hadn't seen the cynical side to Deming too much before. And he'd hoped for someone to share his happiness. "You have a point, I guess. It's only our second date," Hugh said, his tone more subdued. "People can take a while to let down their shields and show all the sides of their personalities." He reached for his burrito and took another bite, chewing it slowly.

"Did you get any hints of any flaws that this Paul guy has?"

Hugh fought the urge to again scrunch his eyebrows. What was Deming getting at? "We all have flaws," Hugh said, with a gentle laugh that almost came out like a snort. "I have plenty myself. I guess if Paul and I are able to give something serious a go, then we'll each eventually see each other's imperfections more clearly." He paused. "My mother always says that she's been happily married for 30 years because both she and my dad can look at the big picture, and not nitpick each bad habit the other has."

"True enough," Deming admitted. "Just be careful, that's all I'm saying. We all know what it's like when you feel that first blast of attraction. It can cloud our judgment."

Dr. Naumov paged Deming, so the nurse had to take his leave of Hugh. Hugh sat there, finishing his burrito. He couldn't get over the sensation that something was off with Deming. Regardless, he decided to contact his friend Justina as soon as his shift was over. She would enthusiastically share in Hugh's happiness, and not spend her time cautioning him to examine Paul's faults under a microscope after their second date.

Of course, he silently corrected himself, first thing he would do when he could get to his communicator would be to reply to the message from Paul that surely awaited him. Then he would reach out to Justina.

The hours eventually passed. Hugh loved his work, but today was one of the only days where he kept looking at the time. Finally, the shift was over and he had ensured that all of his patients were stable and in good hands. He reached for his personal communications device and turned it on.

A message from his mother and a message from Justina – but nothing from Paul.

 **TO BE CONTINUED**


	3. Chapter 3

Hugh looked at this communicator and told himself to take a deep breath. There could be a million reasons why Paul hadn't contacted him. The most obvious one was that he might still be on shift, and Starfleet policy typically did not allow the use of personal communications devices while on duty. But Hugh had an excellent memory, and based on their discussion at the café yesterday, Paul should have been officially off duty more than an hour ago. But Hugh also reminded himself that Starfleet Officers often cannot simply "punch out" at a given time; if Paul's team had reached a breakthrough or even a puzzling impasse, he likely was staying on duty longer. If Hugh had been performing surgery or involved in any complicated procedure, he too would of course stay on duty as long as needed.

And, Hugh told himself, there were other possible reasons too. Last time, Paul had been the one to initiate contact; perhaps the scientist wanted Hugh to do so this time. And Paul had mentioned a younger sister who seemed a bit directionless at this time; maybe he was communicating with her right now.

Of course he had to admit that there were other, less optimistic, possibilities. Maybe last night – and all of their interactions – hadn't meant to Paul what they meant to Hugh. Perhaps Paul wanted to step back a bit, realizing that a serious relationship could derail his career.

Or maybe Paul did this all the time, experienced the thrill of one new conquest after another, like an addict chasing mental highs. Hugh had known more than one man like that before – in fact, he had slept with one like that at the Academy. Fortunately Hugh's intuition back then had correctly warned him that that guy was only after a fling. However the thought that Paul, despite all the indications otherwise, had just been chasing new thrills caused Hugh to almost feel a physical pain in his chest. They had both talked about not wanting a one-time hook-up. Had Paul simply lied?

Hugh did everything he could to put those ideas out of his mind and focus on the more benign explanations for the lack of contact.

As he began the walk back to his quarters, he thought again of Nurse Deming and tried to explain his behavior as well. Maybe Marcus was only concerned for him. He and Paul were taking it somewhat fast; the past 48 hours had truly been a whirlwind.

Hugh reached for his device and contacted Justina. They chatted as Hugh made his way home and arrived inside his quarters. The room still smelled faintly of the candle which had burned last night, and as he approached the bed, he couldn't resist inhaling the scent of the pillow Paul had slept on. All the sensations from last night returned to him in a heady rush.

The doctor shared with Justina all the good, and none of his worries about the fact that Paul had not contacted him today. His friend was predictably ecstatic for Hugh and wanted to hear every detail. When they were finished speaking, Hugh reached out to return his mother's message next. She was still at work, so he sent her written messages only. He then scrolled through his news feed for several minutes as well.

Still no word from Paul.

So now Hugh had a decision to make about how to pass the time and get his mind off of this situation. Go to the gym? Read that new issue of the medical journal? Have something to eat? Reach out to Paul?

'What are you thinking?' Hugh asked himself. 'Just reach out to Paul!'

He picked up his device and typed out his message. "How about dinner tonight?"

Hugh waited. No reply. He waited some more, and still no reply. Then he took a deep breath and decided that he needed to put the device down. Staring at it was not going to accomplish anything. Decision having been made, he changed into his workout clothes and headed for the gym which was located at the top floor of his building. Perhaps some endorphins would help. Hugh slipped the communicator inside his pocket. It was time to work upper body today. He would focus on that. Just thinking of his upper body made him think of Paul's lovemaking, how he had touched, licked, and nuzzled his shoulders and arms – and every other part of him too. Paul had been such a thorough and passionate lover.

Just as he entered the gym, his device made a noise. In the split second before he reached for it, Hugh told himself 'It's mom. It's going to be mom. Don't get your hopes up.'

It was Paul!

His reply to Hugh's question was short and to the point.

"Yes. But can we fuck before dinner please? I don't have enough willpower to sit in front of you at a restaurant without some lovemaking first."

Weight lifting would have to wait. "Yes!" Hugh then decided to be playful and added, "Can we listen to music during it? Please?"

Paul's message back: "Oh dear heavens what have I gotten myself into?"

"I'll take that as a yes," Hugh messaged.

"Okay, yes! Hey, by the way, sorry for not messaging earlier. It's been a crazy day here and I had to redo a bunch of stuff because I was too preoccupied thinking of you all day. But I can get out of here soon and meet you at my place in an hour if that's ok with you. Now I gotta put this thing down before they see that I'm on my personal device."

* * *

Nurse Marcus Deming got to work immediately after his shift too. Starfleet Officers were nothing if not resourceful, and Deming had a large network – and plenty of time on his hands, as he himself had told Hugh. He contacted the other folks in his network, the ones who knew everyone and their business. He volleyed messages back and forth for hours as he conducted his research.

A portrait of Paul Stamets began to emerge as Deming received more messages from people who knew people who had known Stamets. Yes, the scientist was brilliant, passionate even, and his close friends found him very loyal. The people close to him liked his quirks and were glad to call him a friend. He was more the type who had a few dear friends rather than a large circle. But Deming wasn't looking for Paul's positive attributes; he'd heard enough about those. He was looking for dirt.

The adjective _prickly_ came up a lot. "He can be pretty impatient," one person said. Another said, "Grumpy at times and arrogant. But he does have a big heart. I like him." And another wrote, "Not sure if I can see him settling down with a partner? He's really focused on his work from what I can tell. And he's kind of a curmudgeon, any serious boyfriend is going to need to be really patient with him." And another, "I think Paul's hilarious, especially when he's being sarcastic. Which he often is."

Deming made note of the terms impatient, grumpy, sarcastic, curmudgeon, and arrogant to add to prickly. The good attributes he did not need to dwell on.

Deming also searched for any exes. From what he could discover, Stamets had a few but none of them seemed to have been all that serious. There was a guy he'd dated on and off at the academy, but he was on some starship deep in space and Deming couldn't get a hold of him. One contact who'd known Paul at the academy had said, about this relationship, "It always seemed like just something that was going to go on while they were at the academy. Like they both knew it wasn't going to last after graduation." Starfleet had plenty of academy-only relationships that both parties knew would dissolve as soon as they graduated and were shipped out on assignment.

So - not much dirt in the ex department, but plenty in the personality department.

It was just that Hugh deserved better! Better than an overbearing, conceited grouch. Hugh deserved someone like Deming, someone who would take care of him and treat him kindly, and who loved taking care of people. Deming was a nurse, for goodness' sakes, who could be a better match for a doctor? They both loved people and healing – not mushrooms.

"Mushrooms," Deming muttered out loud, shaking his head.

So Deming now had plenty of ammunition. How would he fire it off?

* * *

Although he was only an Ensign, Paul Stamets had been a big presence in the science lab since the day he first entered it. Both because of his personality and because it was rapidly becoming apparent that he was sharper than anyone else on the team, even those who outranked him.

"Ensign Stamets, are you singing?" the Lieutenant asked.

"No Sir," Paul answered. "I'm humming."

Two cadets exchanged shocked and amused glances.

The Lieutenant shook her head. "I would tell anyone else to shut up if they tried to talk back at me, but I'm going to give you a pass this time because of the way you solved that problem we had last week."

"Thank you, Lieutenant."

At long last, Paul could leave the lab and head to his quarters for his date with Hugh!

The two cadets later talked during their home on the speedrail. "What is it with him?" one wondered. "He's acted like he's been floating on a cloud the past two days!"

"It's pretty shocking. But since his work seems to be as good as ever, I don't think our superiors will mind."

 **TO BE CONTINUED**

Sorry for the short chapter this time, but a longer – and final – chapter will be coming very soon.


	4. Chapter 4

**Note** : I debated last time - post one long chapter or two short ones? So I went with short chapters. Please note that this fic starts with their second date, so we're going to be getting back into 'adult' territory very quickly. As with chapter two, don't read unless you're ok with explicit stuff.

 **Chapter Four**

The two men had decided to meet at Paul's place before dinner. Paul had a roommate, but the roommate was away on leave for the next several days. Paul worked quickly to tidy the place up before Hugh's arrival. His work – on various screens and devices – was scattered about the place as were sundry items of clothing and toiletries. Paul didn't have much else; unlike Hugh he didn't have an affinity for artwork or candles. But he had stopped to pick up a candle on his way home.

Paul instructed the computer to being playing the "Hugh" playlist. The two men had messaged back and forth regarding the music that Hugh wanted on, and Paul had then looked up songs and types of music that were considered similar to Hugh's favorites to help round out the playlist.

No sooner had clean sheets been placed on the bed and Paul had taken a comb through his hair than the doorbell sounded.

It was Hugh, with flowers. Paul was so glad he had something to give to Hugh – the candle. Both gifts were received happily, and Hugh appreciated the playlist. He especially loved the fact that Paul had taken the initiative to locate some songs he thought he might like. And then they were in each other's arms, kissing. Paul remembered to gently tilt Hugh's head back and kiss his neck, as the doctor liked.

"Er, all these clothes, they just get in the way," Paul grumbled after a while.

"Maybe from now on, we should just strip the moment we're alone," Hugh suggested, devilish grin on his face.

"I can't tell if you're serious or not, but I'm fully in support of this idea."

And then they were on top of Paul's bed, naked, kissing, stroking each other's bodies. They had agreed that Paul would top this time, though Paul insisted that Hugh (again) choose the position they would take. Hugh remembered Paul having made a few comments about how delectable he found the view of Hugh's backside, so when it was time, he lay face down on Paul's bed and thrust a pillow under his hips.

"This is pretty much the best sight I've ever seen," Paul murmured, as he lubed up Hugh's entrance and his own cock, which had been erect almost since the moment they'd begun kissing.

"Had a feeling you'd like this," Hugh chuckled. He then took a more somber tone, "Um, I know you will but just make sure you go nice and slow. I used to go with a guy who was a total bottom so I'm out of practice doing this." He had to admit that this was – quite literally – a very vulnerable position.

"You can trust me," Paul said gently, running his tongue along Hugh's back. "I – uh – I never would hurt you."

Paul did as he promised. Many delicious moments later, both men were enjoying the slow movement of Paul's hips. Paul placed an array of kisses on the back of Hugh's neck, head, and shoulders.

Hugh thought about how nice this was. Given his last boyfriend had been exclusively a bottom, Hugh got tired of topping all the time. He didn't want to deny himself the experience of being the one to provide the pleasure, of literally accommodating his partner, of being filled completely, of feeling one's lover move in and out and get closer and closer to orgasm.

"So good," Paul whispered, his body covering Hugh's. "This feels so good."

"Mmmmmm, for me too," Hugh murmured. "You can go faster now you know."

Paul slowly began to thrust faster. Every nerve ending in his body screamed pleasure as he galloped towards his climax. He looked down at his lover and was tantalized by the site of his own hardness moving in and out of Hugh's luscious bottom.

Hugh moaned and groaned so loudly that it egged Paul on to move faster. As Paul got closer and closer to coming, at one point he reached his hand out and playfully smacked Hugh's rear end. He knew that by the time he was overcome by his orgasm, he was babbling incoherently and dripping with sweat.

Afterwards, Paul gently pulled out and Hugh turned over onto his back. Paul used his hands to bring his lover to an equally ecstatic ending.

Hours later, they remained in bed together, touching each other, talking, laughing. Dinner had long since been forgotten.

"Hey, um there's something I need to say," Hugh began at one point.

Paul's heart plummeted – he could tell from the serious look on Hugh's face and the awkward way that he began the sentence that Hugh was about to bring up something that he didn't really want to discuss. Even the tone of his voice was markedly different than the pleasant bedroom banter they had been sharing.

"What is it?" Paul asked, shifting his position a bit so he could look Hugh directly in the eyes.

"I loved everything about what we just did. You are amazing. Just not the smack on the rear. Everything else was great, but no slapping next time, okay?"

Paul's face flushed, this time not from passion but mortification. "I'm so sorry, Hugh!" he exclaimed. He touched his hands to his forehead, almost wishing he could cover his whole face. "My – this guy I dated at the academy, he liked for me to do that when he was bottoming. I'm so sorry!"

Hugh softly shushed Paul. "It's okay," he said soothingly. "There's no need for you to apologize."

"Did I hurt you?" Paul asked. His heart still raced and he even felt the beginnings of perspiration on his forehead.

"No, not at all. It's just that it's not my thing, that's all. You're an amazing lover, so don't feel bad about this, okay? And I figure – well, I hope – that we'll be in each other's beds many more times, so I thought I might as well say it now."

Paul nodded. Hugh was going out of his way to reassure him – and Paul knew that the topic might've been difficult for Hugh to bring up in the first place. "I'm glad you told me," Paul said, his eyes downcast. He then turned them back to Hugh's kind eyes. "I'm glad we can talk about this stuff."

"Me too!" Hugh said. He was back to all smiles, and he even let out a relieved exhale. "You're really easy to talk to and you're a good listener."

"Thanks," Paul said, returning Hugh's smile. Hugh pulled him into yet another kiss. They slowly savored this one.

"Can I teach you to dance sometime?" Hugh asked, moments later. The subject of dance had come up yesterday, with Hugh having remarked that he liked to dance.

"To dance? Oh crap, no." Paul had admitted earlier that he had never danced much and didn't particularly care to try.

"C'mon, Paul. It's fun. And I really like to go out dancing." One of Hugh's thumbs leisurely stroked the side of Paul's face.

"I'll look like an idiot. Scientists really shouldn't try dancing." He tilted his head, "And, in fact, maybe neither should doctors. Do people call you 'the dancing doctor'?"

"Some do, now that you mention it. Please. Let me teach you. In private first, that way no one else will see."

Paul took a breath. This meant a lot to Hugh, he could clearly tell as if Hugh's pleading tone wasn't compelling enough. And those imploring eyes of Hugh's just melted his heart.

"Okay," Paul finally said. "On the condition that we don't dance in public until I say I'm ready."

"Thank you, Paul!" Hugh exclaimed happily. "I cannot wait to dance with you."

Paul shook his head. "I'd better shut you up with a kiss before you try to get me to try opera singing next."

Hugh relaxed into the kiss. And silently he really liked the idea of Paul learning to sing as well. Later on – after he mastered dancing.

* * *

After a few days, it became apparent to Nurse Marcus Deming that he would simply need to bide his time. There was no reasoning with a man in Hugh's condition. He practically skipped into work each day and constantly looked like wanted to break out into song and dance. Never one to hide his heart, Hugh had shared with all who asked - so all of his coworkers and half of his regular patients knew he had a boyfriend. Most had eagerly looked at Paul's pictures on Hugh's device. They made comments such as: "So handsome!"; "A scientist, that's a good match for a doctor."; "But can he dance as well as you?"

Deming knew he had to wait until Hugh's glow dimmed, until the giddiness of first love began to abate. (He had heard Hugh candidly share with another nurse that although he'd had boyfriends before, Paul " is my first real serious relationship.") So he continued his research on Paul Stamets, though he did not uncover much of anything different than the results of his initial findings.

He didn't like having to wait it out, but realized he had little choice.

* * *

Time passed. Paul became an excellent dancer under Hugh's tutelage and he grew to enjoy taking a spin on the dance floor with Hugh. The two men spent most of their free time together. Because Hugh had his own room and Paul didn't, Paul spent pretty much every night in Hugh's quarters and had more clothing and toiletries there than inside his own room.

They had been together for just over six months when the inevitable happened. Paul's work had been noticed. Even his superiors and those team members who didn't care for his personality had to admit that he was one of the most brilliant officers they had ever worked with, and that his research could be a game changer for Starfleet. He was offered a prominent position on a large starship.

Starfleet operated in a manner in which they made every effort to keep committed couples together, although they were always clear that they could make no guarantees and that at times, the career of one member of the couple might suffer in order to keep them stationed together. Sickbay on the ship in which Paul had been assigned did not need another doctor, but they would gladly accept Dr. Culber. Starfleet certainly didn't enjoy redundancy, but they were so efficient in so many areas that one extra doctor on a starship – one who needed to be with his partner – would be permitted.

The two men did not need to angst over the decision or spend much time discussing it. During the past six months, they had never discussed the degree of seriousness of their relationship (both understood that it was serious) or whether or not they should stop seeing other people (a moot point anyway, but if either had been seeing other men, it would have ceased immediately).

"I joined Starfleet because I wanted to heal people – and because I wanted to be part of a ship's crew someday," Hugh said, after they read Starfleet's offer. "How exciting that we'll be on a starship!"

"And who cares what they say about the ship not 'needing' another doctor?" Paul said, shaking his head. "A week or two with you, and they'll wonder what they ever did before they met you." He paused and stroked the side of Hugh's face. "I certainly wonder that."

They accepted the transfer, paperwork was put through, and they would officially transfer to the ship when it docked at Alpha Centauri in 12 days.

The med lab where Hugh worked held a going away party for him. He was beloved by his coworkers and patients, and the party was very well-attended. He received many unique and handmade gifts.

Paul watched the gift giving and resolved to be more patient and agreeable with his new team. During Hugh's farewell party, Paul received a few good-natured barbs about "stealing our doctor away", but he kept his desire for sarcastic replies in check, determined to ensure he didn't make his partner look bad in front of all these people.

On Hugh's last day of work – the day after the party - Nurse Marcus Deming approached him during his morning break. Hugh saw Deming head towards him and inexplicably thought back to that morning over six months ago, the day after he had met Paul at Café Trieste. He now remembered that he had taken his morning break with Deming, remembered how he had been so excited that he couldn't touch his snack, and how thrilling it had been to share the excitement with someone else. But since that time, Deming had been distant.

"I'll miss you," Deming said, sitting down next to Hugh.

It was an abrupt way to start the conversation, but it sounded sincere. "I'll miss you too. We should have taken more breaks together," Hugh added, a slight tinge of puzzlement in his voice. The past six months had been full of so much love, so much joy, and so many new experiences, Hugh realized that he really hadn't thought much about Deming during that time.

Deming figured it was now or never, and he might as well say something. What did he have to lose? He knew that he might never see Hugh again, other than on a screen. "You know, I gotta tell you something," Deming began with a sheepish smile. "I always liked you. I wished you were my partner, and I got jealous when you started seeing Stamets. I'm kicking myself for never having asked you out before."

Hugh's eyes grew wide and he set his cup of coffee down. "Wow!" he said. "I really had no idea."

So good at diagnosing and treating mysterious illnesses, but not an expert at seeing what was right in front of him. This blind spot would later cause trouble for Hugh.

"Sorry, I realize this is awkward," Deming admitted. "But I just wanted you to know before you shipped out. That Paul Stamets is a lucky man."

A look in Demings' eyes – a hard look that first suggested hunger and then maybe something more concerning - reminded Hugh of an interaction they'd had. When he thought back through the whirlwind of first love, he remembered that after his second date with Paul, Deming had seemed unsettled and had quizzed Hugh about Paul's flaws. Now it all came together. In any case, Hugh had never had an interest in Deming. It was all for the better that Deming had never asked him out, because Hugh wouldn't really have wanted to go, although neither did he like to let anyone down.

"Thank you," Hugh said. The surprise faded from his voice, and his posture took on a slight stiffness. "But I really think that I am the lucky one. Paul is wonderful." He paused, and felt his heart thaw a bit. "And I hope you meet someone. You have a lot to offer."

Deming nodded. "Thank you. I've been trying to get out there more, socialize more and not just with my same few friends. And hang out at Café Trieste."

"All good ideas. I hope the café will be as magical for you as it was for me."

Wisely, Deming had never shared with Hugh the results of his aborted smear-campaign against Stamets. That would have been going too far. Perhaps Deming really had learned a lesson or two.

Hours later, Paul and Hugh paid one final visit to Café Trieste. When some classical music came on – a song which had been one of their favorites for dance practice – Hugh insisted that they take the dance floor.

Paul gladly did so, and as they usually did when dancing, Paul took the lead. Hugh loved the way it felt to hold onto him, to be in his very capable arms as he followed Paul's steps

Hugh tilted his head upwards for a second. "I think this is one of my proudest achievements."

Paul knew exactly what he meant. "Teaching me to dance," he stated flatly. "Not the 525,600 people you've helped heal?!"

"Well, that's good too."

Hugh made a slight stumble on one of the steps.

"Are you nervous about shipping out?" Paul asked. "We'll be so far from earth, far from your parents."

"I didn't join Starfleet because I wanted to stay in one place my whole life," Hugh smiled, having recovered his footing quickly. "Besides, as long as we're together, I think we can accomplish anything."

"I agree. I love you so much, Hugh."

"I love you too."

His mind on the future, Paul was excited about the new assignment. He also had been pondering asking Hugh to marry him. It was still far too early by his calculations, but it would happen someday. Perhaps next time their ship swung by Alpha Centauri, the two could take some shore leave and visit Café Trieste. Yes, this would be the perfect spot for the proposal.

 **THE END**

So this is the end for now. However I have been known to continue fics if there's enough demand, or even to write special requests. So don't hesitate to reach out to me or just leave a comment.


End file.
